Robin and Hood
by wonderouswonders
Summary: Clarke is imprisoned for knowing the truth about her father's death, but she and many other prisoners are rescued by Bellamy Blake. They escape to the woods where Bellamy and Clarke rise up as leaders. They steal from the rich and give to the poor and everyone thinks that Robin Hood, what they call themselves, is one person. Robin and Hood would really be more accurate.
1. As Fate Would Have It

Chapter One - As Fate Would Have It

The chains around Clarke's wrists were heavy and cold as she was lead towards her doom, a guard on either side of her holding her arms. She stared down at her feet, her once bright eyes dull and cold, making her look like the broken girl she was. Tears slipped down her cheeks, whether from sadness or anger she wasn't sure. It could've been sadness, she had just seen her own father hanged despite his innocence. Or it could've been anger, the kind of anger that sends moisture from your eyes and hatred from your heart.

Clarke Griffin did not have few things to be angry about. No, she could build a mountain of words that reached past the sky, all words of her anger, and still she would have more things to add. She was angry at the sheriff for the lies he had told, she was angry at her mother for her casualness as her only daughter was dragged away and her husband was killed. She was angry at the king for allowing such things to happen, at Wells for breaking her trust, and she was angry at so many other people for so many other things that she thought she might burst from the emotion she held within her that seemed to swell the more she thought of it.

Clarke Griffin was a broken girl, with broken eyes and a broken heart. And now, as she stood in between two guards before a jail cell that was being unlocked for her, she felt nothing.

"Like father, like daughter I suppose, " one of the guards said, not bothering to keep his voice down as he removed the chains binding Clarke's wrists and pushed her into her cell, "but I would've thought that a girl who has lost so much due to recklessness would know to keep her mouth shut and her hands busy.".

Clarke glared at the man, mustering up all the anger and hatred she could as she grabbed the rusty metal bars of her cell and leaned as far forward as she could without her face touching the metal. "And I would've thought that a man who has pledged his life to doing good by both the people and their king would care to know an innocent man from a guilty one," she hissed, her eyes cold and emotionless despite her features being marred by anger, "but I suppose that's just the way things work. It doesn't matter who did or didn't commit the crime, in the end, you just want someone to hang".

"You're mad," the guard replied, "better for everyone that you're next.". The guards turned and started walking towards the door, and as they went, Clarke couldn't keep herself from replying.

"I'm not mad," she began, knowing that she'd gained their attention even though they never slowed their pace, "I'm a fatherless daughter with wretched excuse for a mother who's insane with rage and grief." No one replied, but as Clarke heard the door closing and being re-locked, she decided that she was more angry than she was sad.

"So what'd they get you for?" a new voice asked. Clarke jumped slightly, turning her head to the cell beside her. She was sitting on the stone floor, she'd been sitting there for quite some time and not a single person had spoken to her. Though, there was a boy with dark hair, gentle eyes, and a skin tone she'd never seen before who'd offered her an understanding smile.

"Treason, I believe." she huffed, rolling her eyes a bit.

"Ouch, I figured you just assaulted a guard or something." the girl replied.

"I die in the morning according to the laws of the king." Clarke said.

"Well we're all waiting for death." the girl responded. She moved into the light, so Clarke could see her properly. She had long, dark brown hair and striking blue eyes. All in all, she was gorgeous, and so tiny, and Clarke wondered what she could've possibly done to end up here. She continued, "I'm waiting for my trial, but they're going to kill me anyways so I don't really see the point.".

Clarke crawled over to the bars separating her cell from the girl, peering through them to look at her. "What's your name?" she asked.

The girl hesitated before answering, "Octavia, what about you?".

"Clarke." she replied curtly. This girl seemed nice enough, but Clarke didn't want to give her life story to a complete stranger, a prisoner none the less.

"Well Clarke," Octavia said, her voice slightly appraising, "you sure gave that jerk a piece of your mind. I think you may have scared a few people though, talking the way you did. God knows they should be scared anyways, maybe we all should be if we're cursed to eternal damnation like everyone seems to think.".

Clarke rolled her eyes, "A bit dramatic don't you think?". Octavia smiled slightly.

"That's what my brother always says." she replied, her eyes softening a bit before returning to their previous distrusting mask.

Before Clarke could say anything further, someone else spoke from across the room. "You shouldn't talk about him like he's here," they said, their tone sharp, "like you said, we're all waiting for death, and he's not very likely to be better off.".

Octavia's eyes flared with anger, "Just because you're bitter and hopeless, doesn't mean the rest of us have to be, Raven.".

"Ya? Well I got arrested, and got Finn arrested in the process," Raven growled, a warning in her voice clearly telling Octavia and anyone else listening to back off, "I have every right to be bitter, and I lost hope a long time ago.". Octavia didn't say anything, and neither did anyone else. No one spoke at all, and all Clarke could hear in the silence was the pitter patter of tiny rodents feet on the stone floor.

Clarke tensed when the sound of keys jingling in the lock of the door met her ears, but didn't open her eyes. She heard the door unlock, and then open, before the sound of soft footsteps filled the room; the sound of a hunter's footsteps.

She chanced opening her eyes, trusting the darkness of night to conceal the fact that she was awake. Walking towards her cell was a tall man in a guard's uniform that looked a bit small on him. She could feel fear coursing through her as she strained her eyes to see the man's face through the darkness of her cell. She heard the gate to her cell being unlocked, and then there was a hand gripping her bicep, pulling her up and dragging her out of her cell.

"What are you doing," Clarke demanded, sudden panic searing into her, "I'm not due till morning!".

"What are you talking about? Where's Octavia?" the man whispered. Clarke gaped for a moment, not believing what she'd just heard. Then, realization kicked in.

"You must be her brother," she murmured, "you got the wrong cell, hers is right next to mine.". Without speaking another word, the man turned to Octavia's cell and unlocked it.

"Bellamy! You came!" Octavia exclaimed, keeping her voice down as she wrapped her brother in a bone-crushing hug. Apparently she'd woken up when Bellamy opened her cell, or she'd been awake the whole time, too uncertain to let it be known that she wasn't asleep.

"Of course I came. Now come on, we have to get out of here before the guards realize what's happened." he hissed back, releasing his sister and pulling on her arm as he headed back for the door.

"Bellamy, wait! We can't just leave everyone else here to die! You have to let them out, they can come with us!" Octavia pleaded, not moving an inch. Bellamy faced Octavia, looking down at her with fire in his brown eyes. Octavia looked up at him with equal fervor, a stubborn look on her face.

Bellamy huffed out a sigh after a moment, before releasing his sister's arm and turning towards the rest of the dungeon, making his way to each cell until every last prisoner was free.

"Where are we supposed to go?" Clarke asked.

A grin overtook Bellamy's face and his eyes seemed to lighten. "The forest." he replied simply, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Perhaps, if there were fewer people making their way down the spiral of cold, stone steps, they would've been able to move faster than they were. Thinking of that, Clarke could understand Bellamy's unwillingness to bring anyone else along. They needed to move quickly and silently if they were to make it out alive, which was admittedly difficult with twenty-something people at your back.

"How can you expect us to just follow you blindly into the wilderness?" someone asked, their voice hushed even though it echoed slightly through the stone corridors.

"I don't," Bellamy replied, "but I do expect that you want out of this prison, and I'm fairly certain no one here would survive in the forest without my help.". He stopped walking momentarily to pull a torch from it's place on the wall. "So no, I don't expect you to follow me. But I know you will, even if you don't want to." he continued before taking off again.

It had really only been a matter of time before they ran into someone; that someone being a very much armed guard. The man opened his mouth to call for help, but before he could get out so much as one syllable, Bellamy had handed Octavia his torch and grabbed the man. He flipped him around and covered his mouth with one hand, keeping his hands behind his back with the other.

"This is what we're going to do," Bellamy growled, "you're not going to call for your friends, in fact, you're not going to say anything, is that clear?". The guard nodded quickly, sweat beading on his forehead and dripping slowly down his brow. "Now I'm going to take my hand off your mouth and if you scream, I'll slit your throat. Sound good? Good.".

Clarke could feel a nervous sort of panic rising up in her chest, the second time that night, as Bellamy lowered his hand from the man's mouth and to the hilt of his knife at the belt around his waist. The man didn't make a sound though, and Clarke couldn't say she was surprised. Bellamy hadn't exactly been vague when he told him what would happen if he chose not to remain silent.

Bellamy brought his knife up to the man's neck and pressed the sharp side of the blade against his throat. "W-what are you doing, releasing all these prisoners?" the man stuttered, gulping when Bellamy pressed the knife a bit harder against his throat, sending a trickle of blood down his neck.

"I'm releasing them, simple as that. I guess I wasn't obvious enough." Bellamy snapped back sarcastically, keeping his voice down. The man opened his mouth to speak again, at least that's what Clarke figured he was going to do before Bellamy cut him off with another press of his knife.

"I thought we agreed on no talking." he hissed. The man didn't reply, but his breath hitched in his throat as Bellamy shifted the knife.

"How do you know he won't send someone after us when you release him?" Clarke asked, stepping forward out of the large crowd of people.

Bellamy looked at her, meeting her gaze with his own. "Who said anything about releasing him?" he replied, raising an eyebrow in an almost challenging way.


	2. Bedtime Stories and Memories

Authors Note: Hi! I already had chapter two written so I thought what the heck, why not go ahead and post it! I hope you like it, and thank you to everyone who has read this or reviewed! I wasn't sure if people would actually read it! Also, one last thing, I'm going to be REALLY busy this upcoming week so I'm just going to apologize beforehand if I don't update as quickly as I'd like to! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I loved writing it!

Chapter Two - Bedtime Stories and Memories

The sun was setting, sending a flush of color across the sky, an indescribable mix of soft pinks and fluorescent oranges stretching across the dimming blue. A slight breeze ruffled the green canopy above as they walked, sending a few leaves fluttering down to the ground. Clarke couldn't help but gaze at her surroundings, wonder struck by the wild beauty despite the exhaustion that gripped her very bones like the plague. As a child, her father had told her stories about wolves that roamed the forests, and lions that prowled the mountains, en-caging the kingdom. Now, here she was, venturing into the very heart of the woods she'd dreamed about.

"We'll rest here for the night," Bellamy called, "we wake early and continue.". Clarke sighed as she was jerked out of her moment of tranquility. Shaking away her drowsiness, she walked a bit away from the group, only stopping once she felt she was a safe distance away; she didn't feel inclined to risk having her throat slit in the middle of the night.

Settling down against a tree that had soft green moss growing along its trunk and the ground before it, Clarke pulled her thin, scraggly jacket from her shoulders and balled it up into a makeshift pillow. She lay down on her back, her head cushioned slightly on her jacket, and wrapped her arms around herself. Clarke shifted onto her side, watching as everyone else settled down. Everyone except for one.

Bellamy was crouched down before a tree, the guard they'd been forced to bring along with them on the other side of the broad trunk. There were two strands of rope tied to the guards wrists, and Bellamy was knotting them together on his side of the tree. He walked around so that he was facing the guard once he'd finished, and knelt down before him, sticking a piece of cloth in his mouth as a gag. Clarke quickly averted her gaze when Bellamy stood and looked at her, realizing she'd been staring. With a sigh, she rolled over to face the other direction and closed her blue eyes, praying for sleep to come quickly.

The next morning, Clarke woke up to the sound of thunder and the feel of moisture on her face, the cool morning air chilling her to the bone as it began raining harder. The rest of the group was already up and moving, gathering together for warmth as they prepared to leave. Hurriedly, Clarke stood and grabbed her jacket, sliding it on and walking over to the group. "The princess awakens!" someone, a boy around her age with an angry fire glittering in his narrow blue eyes, taunted.

Clarke gritted her teeth, rolling her eyes as she made her way past the boy. She wasn't naive, stuck believing that lower class people liked- or even tolerated -the noble families. Up until her father had been executed, she and her family had been considered in high regard among the noble class. She had grown up always having food on the table, always having enough money. She had grown up privileged, and many people despised her for it. The same boy piped up, calling after her as she walked, "What could you have possibly done to get yourself thrown into hell with the rest of us?".

Stopping in her tracks, Clarke whipped around, a sickly sweet smile on her face. She tilted her head a bit to the side, blue eyes glinting darkly and giving away her irritation. "Treason," she replied, loud enough for him to hear, "against the royal crown of Ark Kingdom.".

With that, Clarke turned back around and continued on her way. She couldn't help the spark of satisfaction that tickled her mind when she received no response.

As she slipped through the throng of people, a clap of thunder shook the earth and a jagged strike of lightening lit up the cloud-filled sky. The rain was beginning to fall harder, rushing down to greet the group of escaped prisoners with a vicious speed that nipped at their skin like tiny daggers. Clarke welcomed the sting, it was a reminder that this was real, that she wasn't dreaming, that she wasn't still imprisoned in her cell. As another clap of thunder rolled across the sky, drowning out the sound of the rain, the group began moving sluggishly, almost receding back once more like the tide.

With a sigh, Clarke pulled her jacket more snuggly around herself, wishing she had a hood to help shield her face from the wind-driven raindrops. "Something wrong?" someone asked from beside her, their tone edging on snide. Clarke looked over and saw Octavia, her long dark hair drenched and stringy, her blue eyes bright with something Clarke couldn't quite place.

Looking back ahead, she replied, "If we keep going at this pace we'll just be out in the middle of no where for longer. I don't know about everyone else, but it's a bit wet for my taste, and I think some sort of shelter would be nice.". Clarke glanced back at the other girl to see her nodding, almost despite herself, before returning her attention to the front once more.

"You're right, it'll be no fun camping out here again. I'll tell Bellamy to get everyone moving and we should make it to camp by nightfall." Octavia said. And with that, she turned away from Clarke and slipped through the crowd without so much as a wave. Clarke shook her head, it was going to be a long day.

After they began moving more quickly, it turned out that Octavia had been right. The sun was low in the sky, it's last rays of light finally giving up the battle against the darkness that consumed the sky, bringing along with it the moon and the stars. They were on a sort of path, trees at their backs and a man holding a torch at their front.

As they approached the man, he fell into step with Bellamy, leaning in closer in a way that made it obvious he was telling him something. Clarke was at the front of the group and she strained her ears, hoping to hear what was being said, but she only caught unintelligible wisps of conversation. Giving up, Clarke stepped forward. "Where are you taking us?" she asked, speeding up so that she was walking directly behind the two men.

Bellamy looked over his shoulder at her, "Eager now, aren't we princess?".

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him, that nickname had certainly caught on. "Look-" she started, but he interrupted her.

"We're taking you to our camp, it's about the safest place in the kingdom for outlaws like yourself.".

"And you're not one?"

"Didn't say that princess.". Clarke contemplated saying something else, but thought better of it. No one would gain anything from it, and she doubted she would be able to get Bellamy to tell her anything else anyways. Clarke slowed her pace a bit, no longer concerned with staying in step with Bellamy. She could see a wooden gate a little ways ahead of them, fast approaching as they walked, and a nervous anticipation filled her. She didn't trust Bellamy in the slightest, and she had no idea what she should expect to find in the camp.

Then, the gate was being pulled open from the inside, and a man with blonde hair and a slight scruff walked out, stopping right outside. He raised a hand in way of greeting as the group approached and called out, "I thought you were just getting Octavia, I wasn't expecting so many people.". A smile that spoke of mischief and lightheartedness grew on his face.

"There was a slight change of plans." Bellamy replied, and the man that was walking beside him chuckled.

"Slight?" he asked. Clarke couldn't see Bellamy's face, but she assumed he was rolling his eyes based on his sigh. Maybe staying here wouldn't be as bad as she'd thought, after all, anything was better than rotting in a cell waiting for your death.


	3. And So It Begins

I am so sorry this took so long, but I've just been ridiculously busy. Hopefully the next chapter doesn't take nearly this long, but I hope this is worth the wait!

Chapter Three - And So It Begins

The camp was more than Clarke had expected. A tall wooden fence surrounded it, and the beginnings of a few cabins were littered throughout the gathering of cloth tents. There were even medical supplies and homemade weapons along with a few that Clarke suspected had been stolen from the palace guard.

Clarke walked towards the middle of the camp where a large group of people were gathered around the blazing fire pit. The heat from the flames warmed her to her core as she drew closer, and glowing sparks flew into the air, floating away with the breeze. Her stomach growled at the smell of meat cooking over the fire, the tantalizing scent making her mouth water.

She sat down on one of the logs positioned around the fire pit, gladly accepting when someone offered her a stick of meat. She bit into it, and despite it being slightly tough, it was juicy and it had a small amount of salt sprinkled over it. It was pretty good. "So is the food good enough for the princess?" a deep, masculine voice asked from beside her, making her jump in surprise. Clarke turned to see Bellamy sitting beside her, his dark curls sticking every which way, his forearms resting on his knees, making his broad shoulders slump forward a bit.

"It's fine, thank you." she responded, her blue eyes icy, her tone clipped.

"I take it," Bellamy responded instantly, like he'd been expecting her to reply as she had, "that you don't like people to call you 'princess',". He turned his head to look at her for the first time the entire conversation, his dark brown eyes glittering with amusement and something else that wasn't as easily identified. Clarke couldn't help but think that he was very similar to his sister.

"I'm not particularly fond of the nickname. I'd tell you to stop but I get the feeling you'd only use it more." she settled, answering his underlying question. A low chuckle shook Bellamy's chest, a smirk gracing his features. Clarke scowled, rolling her eyes at his expression.

"Do you take me to be a bully, princess?" he asked, his tone serious despite his previous manner. Clarke thought about his question for a moment, contemplating her answer.

"I don't know you well enough to take you to be anything, best that we wait and see what I think of you once we do know one another." she finally replied before taking another bite of her meat.

"I suppose," Bellamy said quietly, "besides, we still don't know whether we're friends or foes.".

Clarke's lips twitched, threatening to turn up in a smile. "I suppose," she agreed, mimicking his words.

Bellamy snorted, and then he got to his feet. "Well I wish you good luck, it's your first day in camp tomorrow," he commented as he stepped over the log.

"What would I need luck for?" she asked, twisting slightly to look at him.

He smirked again, "I guess you'll just have to wait and see.". With that, he turned away from her and walked off, heading towards a tent a few feet away. Clarke returned her gaze to the fire, finishing off her meat and remaining seated. As the flames danced around before her, she let out a soft, breathy laugh, beginning to mentally prepare herself for the following day.

When Clarke woke up, her neck was impossibly sore. When she'd gone to bed the previous night, joining Octavia in her tent when the brunette had offered, she hadn't slept very well, tossing and turning rather than sleeping soundly. Now, she was deeply regretting her near sleepless night as she got up and put her jacket and her shoes back on, quickly running a wooden comb through her knotted hair. She set the comb down when she finished a few moments later and started for the tent entrance, pushing the flap aside and walking out.

To her surprise, the camp was alive with activity; people were walking back through the gate with deer and other smaller game, other people were returning with baskets and buckets, possibly filled with water and plants and nuts. A fire was already going as well, and people were skinning and cooking the game. Clarke recognized a few of the ex-prisoners helping around the camp, the gangly boy with the brown hair and the black haired boy who'd smiled at her, the darker skinned girl with the long brown hair. She couldn't help but be impressed by how smoothly everything seemed to be running, even with new arrivals.

"Big day, princess, think you can handle it?" a voice that was slowly becoming very familiar asked, and Clarke wrinkled her nose, sending a glare towards Bellamy.

"Don't call me that, of course I can handle it." she replied. A smirk spread across his face, and the glint in his eyes was almost condescending.

"I guess we'll see," he concluded before turning around and walking off. Clarke rolled her eyes, a bit disgruntled, he'd seemed nice enough the night before, just a bit distant. Then again, it wasn't like she knew him, for all she knew he could be a complete dick.

Bellamy Blake was a complete dick. Clarke had slowly been learning this throughout the day as she worked. "Nice to see the privileged doing the work for once," he'd said when she ran into him getting some water, sneering. "What's wrong? Not used to doing your own chores, _princess_ ," he'd commented when she started tiring out after the first hour or so of work. He wasn't the only one either, she caught more than one person sending her dirty looks throughout the day, overheard their comments when she walked by them, their snickers. The only person she'd talked to who seemed friendly enough was Octavia.

Now, it was about midday, and Clarke was dripping with sweat. She paused for a moment, down on her knees in the dirt with a small bucket of seeds and a makeshift wooden shovel that was beginning to splinter. She panted, wiping a bit off sweat off her brow, and then Octavia was kneeling next to her, and her appearance was so sudden that Clarke jumped, dropping the shovel.

"Didn't mean to startle you," the other girl chirped, and how she managed to stay so upbeat was beyond Clarke.

"It's fine," Clarke said, and she hesitated before she continued, "what's your brother's problem?". Octavia snorted and Clarke glanced over at her to see her rolling her blue eyes.

"He's an ass," she replied.

"I gathered," Clarke muttered, and Octavia laughed at that.

"Don't let him get to you. He's an idiot and an ass, and his ego is bigger than his dick, at least I assume it is." the younger girl went on, and Clarke couldn't have stopped the chuckle that escaped her even if she wanted to. It felt good to laugh again, to smile again.


End file.
